Vigilante
by Hikiri
Summary: In the year 2222 the world is a much darker place ruled through human desire rather than law. The general public hides within Virtual Worlds at night praying that they don't fall victim to criminal activity. Few fight back in this destitute world and even fewer live to tell about it. It is in this world that a lone Vigilante learns just how weak one is when alone. SaitoXOC AU.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, I know it has been awhile for me, but this is my newest idea. In the end it's a bit of a fusion because of the Virtual Gaming, but there characters are either from Hakuouki or OCs so I didn't see the need to crossover this. This is based in the year 2222, sort of a post nuclear war world. It is obviously AU. This is just the prologue to see what you guys think. It explains the back story roughly. Please let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Hakuouki. The OCs are my own and I like the think the storyline is somewhat original, but that is all. **

* * *

Prologue

The world you are about to read about is much different than that which you live in. On the surface anyway. Though it is still Earth, many things have changed. But over two hundred years have passed between the world you live in and this one. So of course things will differ.

After a series of nuclear scares the world's leading countries built a collection of biohazard safe domes over their most major cities. These domes allowed for no weapons of any sort to penetrate into the enclosed area, not even nukes. Fresh air was synthesized in laboratories along with food. Once these domes were complete the United States declared war on all countries. The aggressive country sent bombs to every city not within a dome destroying the land and slaughtering the unprotected. The President sent word to all the domed cities via a broadcast he hacked into every television, radio, and website claiming he knew the secrets to the domes and if anyone opposed the new world order as set out by the United States of America the resisting cities would be destroyed.

Of course there was resistance.

All non-domed American cities were destroyed by other countries, few actually agreed to the new world order. The cities within every country aside from France, Great Britain and Japan were dealt with harshly. Spies hidden within these opposing countries spent the next three weeks after the declaration poisoning the air and food therein. Then, when it was clear not a single soul lived within these cities, the spies killed themselves locking the secrets of what happened forever.

France, Great Britain, and Japan were permitted to keep one city each and were given a week grace period to transfer people and supplies to that one city. Guns and their ammunition were no longer permitted within these cities. There was to be one government official chosen by the American government to control each dome. One by one the foreign cities became destitute. Crime rose exponentially. After twenty years it became dangerous to leave ones house after dark. Ten years after that the life expectancy of the average person in the foreign cities was 27 years.

But people still fought as best they could. Old ways were renewed, including the way of the sword, but because there was no way of knowing, outside a now different President, how the other foreign domed cities were conquered there was no opposition to the government.

Now people do most things in the comfort of virtual reality. They learn in virtual schools, they play in virtual worlds. The government supplied gear for people to use but it was more to stop any uprisings than because they cared what happened to the public that most of those still in America thought of as nonentities. Let them play their games, they said.

The people who fought did so for a safer home, a better life. They were few and far between and more often than not they just lowered the average life expectancy by decades. Some did so to feed chaos. Some had a death wish. Me? I just want to be free. That's why I am one.

A Vigilante.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Former Tokyo: **

**Exact Location Unknown,**

**9pm**

It was after 21:00 by the time I plugged in. Living alone required someone using Virtual Reality Gear to mind a few precautions after all. Linking up to the Gear caused all of your bodily functions and brain waves to be intercepted by the Gear. It was with these intercepted actions and reactions that the character you played moved. All in all it was pretty cool technology but it left whoever was using the Gear or Diving, as it was commonly called, in a very vulnerable state. More than one person in the Domed City known as Former Tokyo had been murdered while completely helpless like this.

It was really only a problem for those who lived alone. If you lived with someone else, they could generally be trusted to either ward off criminals, should such people trespass, or flip the emergency trigger within the Gear, allowing functionality to return to the Diving individual. The danger of living alone, of course, was that no one was there to flip the trigger. You would never even know you were dead. You would just blink out of the Virtual World and never return to the real one.

Since the general populace, from the earliest child to the oldest grandparent, rare though those were, played some form of Virtual Game to pass the time living alone was mostly unheard of. It was like signing a death wish. Or so most people thought. There were ways around it that skilled enough Wirers and Hackers could work with.

You basically put sensors around your home. Some only had one layer, I myself had three. The furthest layer was a fairly weak sensor but it would track sounds and relay them to the second sensor. This second layer relayed body heat signatures to the closest sensors along with the sounds that the furthest sensor recorded. The third, closest sensor would match the two other devices' data and if there were any bodies passing the third sensor that matched both the sound and heat signature from the first two the trigger would flip. Most of the time it was a false alarm, but one could never be too safe. Of course if someone got too close to a sensor or removed a device from its hiding place the trigger would automatically flip and a small, tinny alarm would sound within the Gear.

With these precautions it was feasible to play without dying though. And when playing games was all an entire population could rely on for a distraction, not being in danger while doing so was a big plus. With this in mind I placed the giant domed helmet on. I could feel the small tingle along the base of my skull as the equipment detected my brain and made ready to highjack it.

"Sync In!" It was the order the Gear recognized as its boot up command. As I gave the order a series of blinking lights flashed across my eyes and a small pain as the Gear sent a wave of energy, similar to a microwave, into my brain to connect me. I closed my eyes, quick as a blink, and when they reopened I was in another world.

The intricate world known as Sword Haven.

* * *

**Sword Haven:**

**Old Hope Village to Beginning Town**

**9:00pm **

The old, squat houses and shops that made up the village I called home in Sword Haven were ugly and dull. There was no electricity in the game so the village streets were lit by small fires in lanterns hanging from the clay buildings. It was quaint; like stepping into a world beyond anything available. Simple. Homey. It was so far removed from the broken and crumbling skyscrapers and dark narrow alleys that comprised my real home; a home where lights flashed garishly from billboards so desecrated with graffiti that it was impossible to know their original message.

I wasn't one to make friends in this world or the real one so there were no messages flashing at me in greeting or anything. I didn't even speak really without tons of people around mucking up the sound waves either. Piss off the wrong person and they can track your ass in the real world just with a sound bite. The people that happened to make their ports to Old Hope knew that about me from the start and after I started winning tournaments in the Swordsmen Arena the whole world picked up on it.

There was one kid, though, who tried talking to me all the time.

He wasn't on my friends list so I have no idea how he always found me, it was really kind of creepy, but every time I logged in he would appear. I have said four words to him the entire time I have known him. "No, get lost punk".

"Oi, Padfoot!" A now too familiar voice called out as the kid in question came into view, bouncing to see over an NPC instead of just walking around it. "Still all, 'no-comment' and stuff, huh?" He asked as he got closer.

I let out an exaggerated sigh in response.

"This girl," he muttered, "not an, 'oh hi Ceight' or a 'well I suppose I could talk.'" I knew he intended for me to hear the words because he glanced over at me as if to see my response. I just turned away from him, heading off to the portal space.

"Oi, oi, oi" Ceight called, "Where are you going? All dressed up in your Fame Gear and everything. Normally you don't bother."

The short huff and glare I sent him before continuing to the instant travel portals that would take a player to any city they already stepped foot in was more of a response then anyone had gotten out of me in quite some time.

"Oh, right!" He said with a big smile, "Tournament today right? But isn't it a two versus two tournament? I mean I've never seen you work with anyone," and the portal was already zipping me to Beginners' Town where a giant coliseum stood. Ceight came right after me, stumbling as he took his first step into our new location.

I let out another sigh. _If he has to follow me around, whatever his reason, it would be nice if he didn't attract more attention than I already do._

I suppose it was only right that he call my current set of armor Fame Gear.

There were many players in this game. Hundreds of thousands. Anyone in the three foreign cities who linked to this particular game played on the same server. The people in America played on a separate one. The game Sword Haven was twenty-two years old. In those twenty-two years a certain…phenomenon within the Virtual world occurred.

I suppose it could be called Human Nature at its finest, but people began wanting to be the best. And those who were acclaimed as the best wanted to be recognized. A committee was formed for each popular game. At first it was just GMs and the Creators. Then it became a life of its own as bloggers and critics and fanatics all began to support other players to be Top Players, as they were to be called. Top Players, in addition to the privilege of said title were given the right to design an armor set to be recognized by.

In time these armor sets went from being called "Top Player Gear" to being referenced as "Fame Gear." To most of us, Fame Gear was a symbol of status. To me it was a burden. Thousands of people ran around shouting my character name when they saw my gear. I was constantly declining friend invites from people I didn't know. But there was some good. I could use it to challenge myself.

Like going solo in a two versus two tournament.

I only ever viewed this world as a place to train my reaction time. Fighting in tournaments helped with that, winning them got me unwanted attention though.

As my unwanted companion and I arrived at the coliseum there was an interesting array of reactions amongst the players already gathered. Fear, distain, anger, defeat. There were some who looked excited though, eager to beat a top player. They could try.

Then there were two players standing near the back of the sign in line that I had never encountered. Their stances, even resting, were those of fighters. It was clear that they also used swords in the real world, not just in Sword Haven. What bothered me was their gear.

In this world you could accumulate skill points by using a skill often. Running at top speed or dodging an enemy attack would increase your agility. Lifting heavy things or swinging a heavy sword would increase your strength. These were the top talents, and the game made it so you could only max out one to prevent overpowered characters. There were things people normally didn't train heavily, like dexterity or perception, they were actually helpful but most people focused on maxing either strength or agility and then pouring as many skill points into the other as possible.

Most of the time you could tell an agility player from a strength player and vice versa by their gear. Agility users wore leather and had light weapons like cutlasses whereas the other type of player usually wore plate and bore heavy weapons like claymores. Such distinctions showed what weaknesses the player had due to skill points.

The two men seemed off. They wore clothing that seemed to be thick wool rather than leather and both bore a katana and wakizashi. This gear marked them as high agility players. The difference was the way they stood. People with high agility normally stood with their weight on the balls of their feet, even outside of combat situations. It was a habit engrained into the system that most Arena fighters were attuned to. Strength based players stood heavily; high enough skill points in strength made the person sink a bit into the ground. These two did neither.

The sight of these men in high quality armor, though strange in material, standing casually with feet flat on the ground but without sinking or seeming heavy... most people in line didn't seem to notice the significance. But under the leather covering my face I was smiling.

As I took my place in line behind the two strangers, Ceight took it upon himself to stand behind me. The two men looked up before I could turn and shoo the kid away. They both looked a bit shocked. Perhaps it was a bit arrogant of me but I felt a bit exalted that these people I never knew seemed to know who I was. Their faces grew hard and they looked away. I didn't know what their problem was, but it could be settled with a sword, sure enough.

"Hey, Padfoot," Ceight drew my attention away from the men and as I turned to face him, his face lit up in a smile. "Take me as your partner! You obviously don't have one, and this is 2v2."

I shook my head in a distinct no and his face fell.

"You're gonna take on two man teams by yourself?" The voice was cocky but still held a joking tone, even with that joking tone I felt a bit of annoyance rise.

As I turned, one of the men in front of me smirked. He was wearing some weird, sleeveless golden jacket with red edges and a black panel filling most of the middle. It was unbutton showing a green shirt of some kind underneath that clearly had black sleeves which were covered by maroon armguards. On the black panel were golden animals of some sort. I, who had never seen any kind of animal aside from a few vicious stray dogs, a cat or two, rats and several crows, could not say what the creature on his shirt was or if it ever existed.

I didn't answer; not by nodding or shaking my head, not by speaking. I didn't even life an eyebrow. These men wore unique armor but they were not on the Top Player list. Top players were not allowed to participate in 2v2 with each other; they had to be alone or with someone out of rank. Overkill was not good for the arena business.

"I believe that silence is a yes." The other said. His voice was mild, he sounded patient, like he had to deal with the antics of the first man too often. He turned to me and said in that same calm voice, "It seems you are a Top Player. The player behind you called you 'Padfoot'. I've heard a lot about that person since I started playing; the female Top Player who wears full black leather and a helm that covers all but her eyes. The helm has wolf ears, pinned back like a snarling beast. There are rumors that they enhance her hearing, but it is not proven. Bearer of twin katana; dual wielder. She does not speak."

I tilted my head in acknowledgement. He listed off the facts and rumor coldly. The fact that he said 'her' and 'she' instead of 'you' slightly grated on my nerves but I chose not to show the irritation and I certainly didn't say anything about it. Something about these men and the things they said made me cautious. It's like they wanted me to talk. It could just be for the sheer challenge of it; getting the normally mute Padfoot to retort, but there was always that chance. All you needed was one sound bite.

The line inched forward another few contestants worth before I turned back to Ceight. Poking his shoulder and then pointing at the ticket booth was a clear indication of what I wanted him to do. He frowned and looked like he was about to refuse but I just glared at him. The kid was loyal to a fault but somehow he never seemed to listen. Maybe because I never spoke to him. It's not that I didn't trust him, it's just…I didn't trust him.

"What a punk," The man with the sleeveless jacket said with a huff of amusement. "She points and he scurries away with his tail between his legs."

Apart of me wanted to respond. A good chunk of me wanted to stare him down, maybe land a good punch. That chunk confused the hell out of the rest of me though. I came here to train, not to make friends. I couldn't afford friends. Not here in this game and not in the real world. Everywhere I went was a dog-eat-dog world. Some of the people I kept close were danger enough, but actually breaking the line and calling someone a friend? No.

Wanting to defend Ceight would make him a friend, wouldn't it?

I had never even seen the kid fight before anyway. He probably didn't have the ability to defend himself against these unknowns even if they turned out to be two bit chumps. I didn't want to be the cause of someone's death, even in a game, if I could help it.

It was at least some comfort that I didn't have to act too much when I coldly ignored the comment.

The line continued to move slowly as I spent my waiting time watching the people ahead of me; the way they stood, how they moved. You could learn a lot about a swordsman by their bodies. The competition was divided pretty evenly between agility and strength. Most teams had one of each. Using my in game perception to focus on the sounds behind me I discerned back that I was the last person in line which only meant I didn't have to look back to see any other contestants.

"And here is a team number for each of you…good luck Wolves of Mibu." The NPC in charge of registration said in a cheerful melody of the men ahead of me. The patient one actually gave a short bow of thanks to it while the cocky one just whirled his finger in a circle over his head and walked off.

_Wolves of Mibu? What the hell is a Mibu?_ The twenty seconds I spent thinking on it was a waste of time so, instead of wasting even more time, I turned to the Registration NPC. Like most programs of her sort, she knew me as a Top Player and without me having to fill anything out gave me a team number for the competition.

The competition started five minutes later and all the contestants filed into The Den; a waiting room that had no windows, doors or screens that allowed no communication with anyone not in The Den. The only purpose of this room was to make sure no one waiting their turn could watch and analyze their fellow competitors. What was the point, really, of dueling someone if you knew everything they could do and what their habits were before you even clashed blades?

From there teams would port to the coliseum floor. There they had forty-five seconds to say their piece and then the duel would start. The losers of the fight would be ported up to a specific section of the stands while the winners would return to The Den with no potential opponents the wiser of any strategy or style.

As a Top Player most of my habits were analyzed by bloggers and critics. My stance was well known and any serious competitor had a few ideas on how to fight me. As such I tended to go in with the intent of analyzing how the other person or team intended to handle me. My most well-known habit was also my least talked about. In the face of an enemy I took on one of three stances. The various critics never seemed to pick up on the criteria, a fact that gave me a certain advantage. Since they couldn't figure it out, they didn't talk about it. If they knew people might be insulted.

"Next up we have the Wolves of Mibu against Titan Slaughter." The host NPC called. I almost wished I was in the stands. I desperately wanted to see the new guys fight. The match up increased this desire as Titan Slaughter was pretty well known, well liked and skilled.

Both teams became blue orbs that flickered and disappeared as they ported to the floor. Four minutes passed in silence before two blue orbs flickered into the center of the room.

_Four minutes,_ I thought, _those newbies must have been terrible if it only took that long to..._ The thought caught off midway and I felt my eyebrows shoot up as the orbs turned into people, the port completed, and the team who called themselves the Wolves of Mibu stood casually, without any signs of fatigue or wear.

"Winner, Wolves of Mibu!" The announcer called. The fights continued, each team being paired off and sent to fight to the death, until only one team and myself had yet to compete. I was only slightly put off. I would be facing a female and a male who both favored strength. That wasn't the problem; it was just that they looked scared. I felt like I would be kicking a puppy around for however long it took.

"Final fight of the first round" the announcer called. "United Love against Wolf Sentinel."

_Great, their name is United Love,_ I thought as the world around me turned blue for the port up. _Definitely gonna get the kicking puppies feeling._

Looking at the pair of them, the girl was a slight thing who spent almost the entire forty-five seconds hiding behind her teammate while he glared at me like I was a heinous beast for scaring his missus, I felt myself smirk.

_Well, I have been wrong before. This is nothing new._ The thought came and left quickly as I took up the second of my three stances. _Intermediate then_.

Bloggers and critics might not have been able to pinpoint exactly what my stances indicated. It might be because they really didn't see or it may be that they just didn't want to promote a rude attitude. A lot of the Arena fighters knew though and the members of United Love seemed to be one of the teams who got it.

With five seconds to go before the fight began the girl straightened up as her weapon became visible. "I told you it wouldn't work," She huffed as a long, elegant and, without massive amounts of dexterity and strength, uselessly large battle axe appeared on her back. The man beside her grunted in assent as a weapon I think was called a kusari-gama materialized in his hands. The weapon was basically a sickle on a long handle with a long chain. There was a weight on the chain.

_This better not take too long…I have patrols to do by eleven. _I thought as the gong signaling the start of a match went off.

* * *

**A/N: So, a bit more time in the VR (Virtual Reality) then in the RL (Real Life) this time around, but who can guess how many Shinsengumi have been introduced? And can you guess who they are? Sorry there is a lot of information being explained, the story will go much smoother in the future if I get it out the way here. Also a note…This story does have some parts in VR but the majority will be in the real world after a bit. Or that's the plan anyway. I am kinda worried about how this is going so please shoot me a review…especially if it's too weird or confusing. I can try to edit.**


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